Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, Alas! for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

OUT OVER THE FORTH.

UT over the Forth, I look to the North;

OUT

But what is the North and its Highlands to me?

The South nor the East gie ease to my breast,

The far foreign land, or the wild rolling sea.

But I look to the West when I gae to rest,

That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be ; For far in the West lives he I loe best,

The man that is dear to my babie and me.

JOHN BARLEYCORN.

A BALLAD.

HERE was three kings into the east,

THER

Three kings both great and high,

And they hae sworn a solemn oath

John Barleycorn should die.

They took a plough and plough'd him down,

Put clods upon his head,

And they hae sworn a solemn oath

John Barleycorn was dead.

But the cheerfu' Spring came kindly on,

And show'rs began to fall;

John Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surpris'd them all.

The sultry suns of Summer came,
And he grew thick and strong,
His head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears,
That no one should him wrong.

The sober Autumn enter'd mild,
When he grew wan and pale;
His bending joints and drooping head
Show'd he began to fail.

His colour sicken'd more and more,

He faded into age;

And then his enemies began

To show their deadly rage.

They've taen a weapon, long and sharp,

And cut him by the knee; Then tied him fast upon a cart,

Like a rogue for forgerie.

They laid him down upon his back,
And cudgell'd him full sore;
They hung him up before the storm,
And turn'd him o'er and o'er.

They filled up a darksome pit
With water to the brim,

They heaved in John Barleycorn,
There let him sink or swim.

They laid him out upon the floor,
To work him farther woe,

And still, as signs of life appear'd,
They toss'd him to and fro.

They wasted, o'er a scorching flame,
The marrow of his bones;

But a Miller us'd him worst of all,

For he crush'd him between two stones.

And they hae taen his very heart's blood,
And drank it round and round;
And still the more and more they drank,
Their joy did more abound.

John Barleycorn was a hero bold,

Of noble enterprise ;

For if you do but taste his blood,

'Twill make your courage rise.

'Twill make a man forget his woe; 'Twill heighten all his joy :

'Twill make the widow's heart to sing, Tho' the tear were in her eye.

Then let us toast John Barleycorn,

Each man a glass in hand;

And may his great posterity

Ne'er fail in old Scotland!

N

IT

THE RIGS O' BARLEY.

TUNE-" Corn rigs are bonie."

I.

T was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonie,

Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held awa to Annie:

The time flew by, wi' tentless head,

Till, 'tween the late and early, Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed, To see me thro' the barley

II.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly;
I set her down, wi' right good will,
Amang the rigs o' barley:

I ken't her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her most sincerely;
I kiss'd her owre and owre again,
Amang the rigs o' barley.